At Last
by OwlishArgento
Summary: Lord Voldemort is looking for a place to hide a Horcrux. Little Hermione Granger is only looking for a friend.


**Title:** At Last  
**Author/Artist:** OwlishArgento  
**Challenge:** lvhgbetrayal FQF. The fluff challenge.  
**Summary:** Lord Voldemort is looking for a place to hide a Horcrux. Little Hermione Granger is only looking for a friend.  
**A/N:** Where to begin? The whole point of the challenge was to write something cute, fluffy and sweet for a ship that is normally filled with darker fiction. I tried to write in a style which would equal fluffy but would at least help you hold your vomit. Try and suspend reality just for this little miffy thing because you will enjoy the willy-nillyness so much more if you do! This is dedicated to my darling Beta, excellent friend and distantly related family member, Leanne, who is utterly fabulous. There is also a special apperance by a gorgeous little snake of mine who goes by the name Lucius. Oh, and there are a few references to "Bram Stokers: Dracula" (The film) which I'm sure are pretty obvious.

At Last

_  
"At last my love has come along,  
My lonely days are over and life is like a song."  
- Etta James "At Last" _

Like every other story about remarkable people, this one is set in a particularly unremarkable place. A street, which looked identical to every other street within a fifty-mile radius, was dotted with houses that looked identical except for their inhabitant's unique touches. A corner shop stood, not at the corner, but at the bottom of the street where children, old and young, filled their pockets with ten pence mix-ups and one-penny sweets. A larger, more equipped shop was located around the corner, across a busy road and through a jungle of houses.

At a twilight hour on an autumnal night, there was nary a soul around this residential area as the children lay snuggled up in their beds and happy, kind-hearted parents quietly spoke of the day's events with the sweetness only attributed to those in love.

It seemed that life in this haven was a perfect atmosphere for growing the budding geniuses of tomorrow. At number thirty-three, there lived a seven-year-old Rupert Mann who could do complex maths problems in his small head. At number fifty-seven, Josephine Laurence could out-run every child her age and could beat every opponent at football. At number forty-four lives the child that our story will be focused on.

As a precious five year old, Hermione Granger astounded the adults with her, frankly, adult mannerisms. She could read complex theories and, not only understand them, but she rephrased them so that many confused grown-ups could also understand them. It seemed there was not a question she did not know the answer to, yet she continued to study and study to prepare for the alarming event of someone asking her a question she did not know the answer to.

In her attempt to become the smartest person alive, Hermione suffered from a severe lack of friendships with children her own age. It was too difficult to catch a ball with one hand holding a book and a nose planted firmly in its pages. They complained it was too difficult to understand her strange speech for, unlike most five-year old girls, she spoke as she thought, in a coherent, dignified way, thank you very much.

The adults humoured her and thought her adult ways were too precious for words. Much to her obvious dismay, they did not find discussing the finer points of the process of electrolysis of aluminium oxide a particularly interesting conversation and so made the mistake of treating her as a child when she demanded to be treated like an adult. Hopeful of finding an equal capable of sharing his or her views on the ideas presented in Stevenson's Jekyll and Hyde, she bravely ploughed on by asking all sorts of probing questions that left many adults in a flutter. Finally disheartened by the lack of potential intellectual soul mates, Hermione retreated, like all good bookworms, to the blanketed safety of a good Dickens.

One completely unremarkable day, Hermione's careful studying of Shakespeare's 144th Sonnet in her garden was interrupted by the silent arrival of a shadow over her pages. Blinking owlishly up to find the reason her pages were darkened, she was surprised to find a man towering over her. He looked around thirty years old yet she could not be positive as his face carried an unusual aged wisdom. He was dressed in black clothes with his black hair neatly parted to the side. His eyes were an unusual shade of light brown. She saw him quickly slip a golden trinket into his pocket.

"Hello. Can I help you?" She spoke politely and smiled beautifully at the stranger, just as her mother had taught her. His clothes were very different to the modern garb she was dressed in, she noticed curiously. He looked like someone who had stepped right out of the pages of a Second World War story.

"What is the date?" He had a soft London accent and sounded charming to Hermione's sweet ears. His strange eyes bore deeply into her brown ones. Hermione's interest in this person was fading for someone who did not know the date would surely not have the intellectual capacity to discuss such a difficult sonnet.

"26th October 1984" She smiled again. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he narrowed his eyes darkly. Hermione continued to prattle despite her audience's attentions being elsewhere. "It's Halloween soon. I'm dressing up as a witch this year because mummy and daddy are taking me to a party for all the children of the people who are dentists. I like witches because I think that it would be interesting to do magic like the Good Witch from the Wizard of Oz and not like the Wicked Witch because hurting people is bad. I'd like to magic a friend for me because I don't have any. What is your name? Would you like to be my friend?"

Taken aback by this slightly unusual request from such an unusually bright child, he stared down at her small face and the curious glint in her chocolate brown eyes. Her hair was bushy and her front teeth stuck out predominantly from her wide mouth. A large tome entitled "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare" lay on her lap.

"My name is Lord Voldemort." He said slowly with his mind quickly processing all of the information it had been subjected to. Voldemort passed his hand briefly over a pocket in his large cloak. He closed his eyes slightly and returned his gaze to the almost vibrating young girl.

"My name is Hermione Jane Granger." Hermione smiled at him brightly and the force of her excitement caused her bushy hair to bounce dangerously on her small shoulders. "You can call me Hermione because I don't like the nick-names from my name. They just sound stupid! Herm sounds like "ham" and I don't want people to associate me with food. Mione sounds like "mine" and I don't want people to think I belong to them because I don't. I belong to me. Hermione is a nice, long, complicated name and it suits me. I was named after the character in "A Winter's Tale" which is a good story but I don't think I'm like her, even though we have the same name. My favourite girl's name is Christina or Lily. I wish I had a different name to my own. I think Tom is a nice name. It's short and sounds nice. Do you like it? I really like it. If I had a baby, I think I would call him Tom or Harry because they are common names and they just sound nice. Don't you think so?"

After Hermione's speech (which she said in almost a single breath, a feat Lord Voldemort found amusing) and her insistence to invite the pale stranger to share a meal with her family, Lord Voldemort found himself the willing companion of Hermione Jane Granger despite the concerned looks flashed down from the table from one Mrs Marie Granger who did not approve of her beloved daughter's companion. Something about the man and his softly spoken, charming voice that hinted of something all together more sinister, sent chills down her spine.

* * *

"Where are you going, Lord Voldemort?" She spoke so innocently and so sincerely that he could not help but respond. "It is rather late and mummy said that if you go outside past nine, there is a chance you will be hurt by those horrible boys who hang around the street corners. I don't want you to get hurt because you are my best friend!"

Voldemort's lips quirked up in an involuntary smile. Although she seemed young, she spoke more eloquently than the idiots he had shared a room with at Hogwarts. Her lack of social graces made her more endearing than any person he had known before. Plus her wealth of knowledge on every subject known to Muggle-kind at such a young age reminded him starkly of himself at that age.

Lord Voldemort was not in 1984 for the simple reason of meeting the charming young lady. He had travelled forward in time to find the perfect hiding spot for the Ravenclaw horcux for who would think to look in time? The beautifully decorated quill, made with the purest silver tip, contained part of his soul and once belonged to the intelligent founder of Hogwarts. The fact it had belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw made it an expensive artefact but with the addition of his soul, it made the quill priceless. Rowena Ravenclaw was the first known witch to successfully handle and mould time into a device to propel the user forward or backwards in time, which gave Lord Voldemort a sense of appropriateness.

"I am not going anywhere." Voldemort spoke shortly. Hermione's sweet face melted from concern to happiness within a second. She was standing at the bottom on the stairs in her blue nightdress with a pair of glasses perched neatly on her small nose.

"That is a very nice colour, Hermione. It suits you. " Voldemort closed his case with a dull thump. Hermione giggled slightly and twirled.

"It's called periwinkle blue, Lord" Little Hermione skipped happily down the stairs and jumped on the comfortable cream sofa beside Voldemort. She smiled winningly up at him and he gave her two decisive pats on the head. "It's my favourite colour ever! I think that when I am grown up, I will have a beautiful dress and it will be periwinkle blue!"

"I'm sure you will, Hermione" Voldemort's tone was quiet and calming as the little girl smiled up at his pale face happily. Hermione was a child who could love unconditionally as she had been shown much love in her few short years. She was endearing rather than irritating which was the main reason why Lord Voldemort had not abandoned the Granger family yet. He knew there was a reason to stay here, even if he did not understand why. "Now, little girls, such as yourself, should be in bed at such a late hour. Tomorrow will be a beautiful day, why waste it by sleeping it away?"

"I wont" She exclaimed, vehemently assuring him of her abilities to sleep. "I'll go to bed now, though. Goodnight Lord"

"Goodnight little one"

There were no witnesses to what happened next which was a stroke of good fortune as what happened would be enough to traumatise even the strongest minded of wizards. Little Hermione Granger unflinchingly gave her strange companion a small, sweet kiss on his pale cheek and then gave him a hug bereft of any malice or intent to cause harm.

Lord Voldemort gently touched the place where she had kissed him with a small, genuine smile playing around the corners of his lips.

* * *

"Lord, your ice-cream is going to melt!" Hermione squealed, gesturing to the ice cream that threatened to fall off its cone. Voldemort looked down and gave the cold substance a probing lick. It was sickly sweet and he disliked the taste of it but he would not let Hermione, who licked her own ice cream with a wolfish fervour, see his dislike.

Two days had past from their chance encounter and Voldemort found fate playing a dangerous game with him. He had spent most of his time with Hermione who proved to be beyond endearing with her odd mixture of adult behaviour and child-like honesty. For example, she had constantly referred to him as "Lord" which emphasised how young her mind really was as she thought that "Lord" was his first name and "Voldemort" was his surname.

They were sitting in a quiet park at the end of October, a Herculean task, he thought gloomily. The trees were almost completely bare and the fallen leaves formed a carpet of rustling auburn and gold below. A ferocious wind blew solitary leaves off the trees and the sky was coated in thick, black clouds that threatened to break and coat the land with torrential autumnal weather.

Despite the weather, she had asked politely for an ice-cream from a grim looking man selling them outside of the park and Voldemort could not refuse her as she asked for so little yet gave so much.

Hermione's parents had eagerly consented to Hermione spending the day with her new friend while they continued working at their dentistry practice. Voldemort refused to believe that casting the Imperious curse on them had something to do with them leaving him to look after their daughter. Instead, he took great pleasure in shaking a disapproving finger at them and exclaiming "What an utter shame you are unable to care for your child! Maybe I should take her back in time with me since your careers are obviously more important!" at their uncomprehending forms.

"... and then the house just EXPLODED! The mummy and daddy were killed but their little baby survived! Isn't that perfectly bizarre? I think he must have been sleeping at the time because I once saw this programme on television when this boy survived a car crash because he was sleeping and his body was relaxed! It said that if you sleep your muscles can't react to the force of the explosion so you don't go into shock which leads to broken bones! I always sleep in the car now because if it crashed then I wouldn't want to die even though if I don't die, mummy and daddy will die because they don't sleep in the car. I'd cry if that happened because I love mummy and daddy very much and I'd have to live with Granny Granger who tries to feed me sweets and things but I'm not that fond of sweets because mummy says they rot out your teeth and then you have to get fillings which REALLY hurts!" Hermione gestured wildly with her half-eaten ice cream before giving it another decisive lick.

Finally at ease with her constant rambling, Voldemort listened intently to whatever knowledge she decided to was vital for him to know. He found himself enraptured by her simple manner, her enthusiastic way of speaking and her articulacy for such a young age. Voldemort found himself more relaxed than he had ever felt before around this little Muggle girl and her seemingly never-ending chatter.

"Hermione" He spoke softly, her deep brown eyes opened in interest as he pointed at a little snake slithering happily along the ground. Voldemort hissed quietly and the little creature stopped moving. He gently lifted it up in the palm of his hand and watched as it wound itself around his long, slender fingers.

Hermione stared at the animal with a mixture of curiosity and repulsion. She had never seen a snake up this close before and her instinct shouted at her to run from it. The snake was a dark shade of brown with distinctive black stripes on its skin. Its underbelly was cream with black chequers dotted around it. Voldemort offered it out to her to stroke and she recoiled, shaking her head in fear.

"Hush, Hermione. Do not fear him." Voldemort's eyes trained on the slender body of the muscular snake. "He does not want to cause you any more harm than you wish to cause him. Look at his face, little one; he has travelled through oceans of time to find you. You should not fear him. Respect him, yes, but never fear such a beautiful animal who only wishes to do what he loves the most."

"What does he want to do the most, Lord?" Hermione had inched closer to the snake and stared at the animal that swayed almost hypnotically. Its black tongue flickered quickly at the girl who's fascination grew.

"He wants to be free. He wants to be loved, feared and respected by all." Voldemort said wistfully, seemingly under the spell of the serpent that hissed gently at the man. Voldemort hissed quietly and the snake slid from his hand and landed gently on the lap of his young companion.

Hermione stared at the animal, breathed deeply and put a gentle hand onto its long body. She was surprised that it was not slimy or cold in the slightest; instead it felt of warm leather. Hermione attentively ran her hand over its waxy scales and gave its head a decisive pet. The snake swayed lazily and crawled up her small arms.

"I think he likes you." Voldemort whispered softly, his mouth pressed close to her ear. Hermione smiled weakly up at him and returned her gaze to the animal. She knew that the animal had a reputation for being dangerous but it had touched her heart to see it act friendly toward her.

"Snakes are nice when you get to know them and you don't try to hurt them" She smiled fondly at the animal who hissed happily in reply.

The snake slid gently down Hermione's arm and slithered toward a near-by bush. Hermione put her head onto Voldemort's body, as she was too small to reach his shoulder, and they observed the small animal in a companionable silence. The grass snake crossed the grass swiftly and vanished into a near-by rose bush within seconds.

"I think we'll call him Lucius" Voldemort mused after a few moments of silence. Hermione's nose ruffled in mock disgust at the name before she dissolved into uncontrollable giggling.

* * *

"What do you think of my hat, Lord?" Hermione ran down the stairs and twirled beautifully to give Voldemort the full view of her attempts to imitate a witch. Her dress was long, orange and filled with fabric to make it appear larger than life. It was delicately decorated with a black gossamer and gold ribbons to make it seem more magical. The top half of her dress was a purple and black faux-bodice with ribbons of gold to add to the effect. On top of her black wig sat a black velvet hat with a band of purple surrounding it, which had three small gold bows, attached. A plastic broomstick lay beside the door, ready for take-off, with a black cat haphazardly sellotaped onto its bristles.

"You look wonderful, little one." Voldemort managed to choke out after being astounded by the Muggle ideas of witches. Hermione twirled again and sped off toward the kitchen where her parents stood quietly.

"Hermione. We cannot take you to the party, I am afraid." Jonathon Granger's voice was devoid of any emotion. Hermione felt her small eyes well up with tears, as she was genuinely looking forward to the silly little party she had been dreading until recently. "But dear Lord Voldemort has offered to keep an eye on you during the night as we are very busy. We are sorry for putting our needs in front of yours. We are sorry for hurting your feelings in any way."

"It's okay, daddy!" Hermione exclaimed loudly, relieved she would be still going to the little Halloween party, organised by a local church group, with her new friend. She ran back into the comfortable living room to find Voldemort dressed in robes of a deep green with a wand twirling systematically around his pale fingers. Hermione squealed in delight and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you for taking me! Thank you! Thank you for dressing up as a wizard! Mummy and Daddy never dress up but you did and you've got a wand and everything!" Hermione excitedly shrieked into the robes of her companion.

"It's nothing, Hermione." Voldemort gently prodded her away from his body, flinching at the unexpected contact of having someone, accounting to the size and excitement of a human bowling ball, hurtle into his chest.

"You don't mind? I'm positive the party will not be very fun for you because all the children are going from the church and I think they are really loud and obnoxious. The parents usually stand around the bar and get drunk whilst the older children hide under the tables to avoid playing the party games. I don't mind the party games too much because I usually win at them because I'm very good at running and finding things. I just don't like the other children because they are quite mean to me sometimes and they can really hurt my feelings by being rude and cruel. Then they have a big fireworks display, which is fun because the fireworks are really pretty and they usually scare the silly little girls at the party who don't like the bangs but they don't scare me because I know how fireworks are made! I read in a book that told you what type of metals to use to get all the different colours! You use Barium Chloride to get green sparks, Strontium Chloride to get red sparks and Copper Chloride to get blue sparks! My favourite colour of sparks are blue because blue is my favourite colour! I don't really like pink because girl's usually have to always wear pink and it I don't want everyone to think of me as a little girl because I am not."

What Voldemort quickly learnt about Hermione was that she seemed to give a lot of information in one very short period of time. She seemed to speak everything going along in her train of thought instead of only providing the information required by the person, which was both entertaining and a little intimidating.

"Shall we go?" Voldemort offered a gentlemanly arm for the little witch who gently linked her arm with his. The two companions walked out of the warm comfort of the Granger home and down to the local Church where the children were already gathering.

* * *

The party was held in a rather small congregational hall. A legion of black and orange balloons decorated every corner of the small room. Cardboard spiders, ghosts, witches, devils and skeletons were stuck at seemingly random places around the room with their split-pinned arms sellotaped in what the decorators clearly decided were scary poses. A group of jack-o-lanterns alternatively glared or laughed at the guests depending on the image carved on their faces. Little plastic spiders dangled threatingly while helium balloons, covered with a tablecloth, bounced and tried to act as frighteningly as possible.

Armies of little witches congregated in the corner with their beloved broomsticks stacked neatly beside them. A flame-coloured devil chased a giggling vampire around the room with a sheet-covered toddler trying to keep up behind them. A very terrifying monster found it's complete pleasure in scaring little pumpkin coloured babies. Adults of varying degrees of ire stood together beside a little bar that served a variety of drinks from a simple cup of tea to a complicated glass of vodka.

Hermione bounced into the room with Lord Voldemort by her side. They quickly hurried to an unoccupied table, covered with a pumpkin-themed black tablecloth, and sat down.

Hermione watched the other children anxiously as they played together in their little groups. A particularly loud group comprised of witches, giant cats and vampires, gave a startling roar of childish laughter and pointed at the hopeful look in Hermione's round eyes. Hermione peeled her eyes off the giggling groups of children and dropped her gaze to the floor; her eyes filling with unshed tears.

Hermione had been positive that this party would be different to every other party because everything in her life had begun to improve with the arrival of her new friend. She tried to suppress a solitary tear that threatened to drop from her eye but could not. Hermione felt more ashamed than she had ever felt in her entire life, not because the other children were deliberately hurting her, but because she had deluded herself into thinking this time would be different. Now, she thought sadly, Lord Voldemort would leave her and find a new friend who could be funny and nice and friendly. Not some rambling know-it-all, teacher's pet.

Hermione looked up from the floor and stared sadly at Voldemort (She thought she'd get in one last look at him before she never saw him again, ever.) who replied with a quizzical raise of his right eyebrow. Hermione scrunched up her eyes in an effort to keep the majority of her tears at bay. Voldemort looked immediately worried.

"What has happened, little one?" Before Hermione could answer ("You hate me and you want to go and play with Alison Murray instead of me because she has fifteen dolls and is good at playing hopscotch") a cheery voice declared a game of "Find this Object" and Hermione was carted off before she could share her burden.

Voldemort watched with slight amusement at the activities the children were doing. Although he had watched this silly game many times, something about this group enticed him. Something about one little person enticed him. Hermione stood on the fringes of the loud group and spent her time trying to be heard in the chaotic game, yet the other children seemed to scream at her when she was too slow in removing her shoelaces.

"Come on, HERMIONE" A vindictive girl shrilly squealed, pushing Hermione down and forcibly removing her laces. Hermione gave a yelp in pain and watched in horror as her shoes were rudely snatched from her feet. The other girl, Rachel Ferguson, laughed cruelly at Hermione. "If you don't want to win, you might as well not play!"

"I-I-I-I do n-not want to p-p-play any m-more" Hermione stuttered, her brown eyes widened in fear. Rachel, being much bigger than Hermione, towered over her, sneering dangerously.

Without warning, twenty laceless shoes levitated off the ground and began to pelt Rachel. The girl squealed and ran around in a helpless circle, with her arms flailing behind her as she tried to push the floating shoes from her face. Hermione's fear turned to amusement and she giggled loudly.

"Come, Hermione" Voldemort spoke with his voice cooling the air a little. He looks like a snake from this angle, Hermione giggled to herself, using his outstretched arm to pull herself to her feet. Rachel continued to run, still trying to deflect the blows from the shoes, while a group of chaperones tried to hold off the shoes who seemed to regroup and devise a more strategic method of attacking.

"We're leaving." Voldemort directed her toward the exit with a possessive hand on her shoulder. Hermione stared at him sadly, inwardly ashamed of her inability to do anything right. All she wanted was another chance to show him she could be a normal girl yet, she thought sadly; there was nothing at the party for her.

Except, perhaps, to see Rachel Ferguson be beaten to death by a gang of shoes.

* * *

"Take the coat. It's cold." Wordlessly Hermione accepted the little blue coat and gave Voldemort disdainful looks. The silence from the duo left the party unnerved and exasperated the Dark Lord. Hermione had never been this quiet around him before.

"Do you know why I took you out of there?" Hermione raised her face for the first time since they had left. Her cheeks were dirty from crying and her eyes burnt with unshed tears. Her mouth was twisted in an awful way that seemed to scream "Betrayer!" at him. Voldemort paused; startled she was this upset, and sighed. "Her friends were planning their revenge on you. They wanted to hold your head under the water when you were bobbing for apples. You could have been seriously injured."

Hermione gave him a weak smile that caused an unusual reaction in the pit of his stomach. After a moment she giggled and put her small hand into his. Voldemort gave it a comforting squeeze and almost felt like giggling himself.

"I'm sorry" She said as the companions sat on a wall to watch a firework display. "I'm really sorry you didn't have a good time. I wish I could have invited some friends over to see you and play with you." Her voice broke slightly at the end.

"A long time ago, I lived in an orphanage and every Christmas they would have a party. Every other child in that horrid place thought that this party was the greatest event of their small, pathetic lives while I loathed it with every fibre of my being. Like you, I had no-one to speak to and, by some twisted logic, every single one of those happy, party children attacked me for being different to them. The truth is that I am different to them and I quickly learnt the reason they attacked me was because they knew I was better than they were. They feared me and constantly tried to hurt me, both physically and mentally." Said Voldemort in what he obviously decided was a consoling tone but, for lack of practice, Hermione thought it sounded more patronizing. "Do you know why they did not hurt me, little one? I knew I was better than they were and I knew that as long as I remained myself, I would always be hated. There was no need to waste any emotion on such disgusting beings because they would waste none on you. Every time you drop a single tear for someone, you give them power over you, until they destroy you eventually. Learn who you are and be thankful for you are better than them."

"But how can that be true? I've tried being myself and everyone prefers some idiot like Alison Murray to me. It's just not fair."

"A million Alison Murray's are not worth half a Hermione Granger." Voldemort winced at the utter sappiness of the sentence but Hermione was touched. She cuddled beside him and, after a tense moment, he put a gentle arm on her little shoulder.

"What happened to Rachel?" Hermione spoke lazily from the comforting warmth of the strange man. "I know that someone rigged up those shoes to chase her but I'm not sure how they managed to get them to move so quickly."

"I have no idea, Hermione" Voldemort's tone was even as he put a protective hand on his wand. When he saw the huge girl hurt his Hermione, his defensive instincts kicked right in. He knew that to cast Avada Kedavra on the girl or even Crucio would be out of the question so a simple animation charm would create a perfectly devious method of teaching the child a valuable lesson in life; never harm his Hermione.

"I think it was wrong to play such a cruel joke on her, even though she deserved it. She could have gotten seriously hurt! No-one deserves to be humiliated badly." Hermione said softly, nuzzling closer to the warm body. Voldemort stroked her arm slowly.

"Do you not think she deserves to be taught a lesson for what she has done to you?"

"I think that if everyone lives by such a policy, there would be much more violence and pain. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."

"Indeed" Voldemort said softly.

"Will you always be my friend, Lord?" Hermione piped up brightly.

"Of course, little one." Hermione laughed merrily and put her head onto Voldemort's lap so she could get a better view of the fireworks. Voldemort frowned slightly and petted her hair thoughtfully. "I'll always be with you, forever and ever"

They sat like that for another few minutes, in the companionable silence of friends. When the fireworks had finished, Hermione had fallen asleep with a small smile on her face. Voldemort sighed and carried her small figure home,

* * *

"Hermione. Hermione? Wake up." A voice from the darkness called her to consciousness. Opening her eyes, she blinked blearily at the sight of her parents peering down at her.

"I'm awake, mummy. What is it?" Her voice was hoarse with her sleep. Sipping a glass of water, Hermione was worried at the concerned looks on her parent's faces.

"It's Lord Voldemort." Marie Granger paused slightly, shooting her husband furtive looks. "He's gone."

The glass slipped from Hermione's fingers and landed on the carpet with a muffled thump. Hermione stared blankly at her parents and numbly ran into the guestroom that her friend had inhabited a few hours ago.

The bed was undisturbed, with the sheets and pillows perfectly in order. A small desk, which once contained the contents of his pockets, was empty. A window allowed a howling wind to blow the white curtains.

Hermione threw herself onto the bed, sobbing and wailing louder than the wind. The cotton bed sheets could not muffle her desperate cries, the awful inhuman sound that brought her parents running to the guestroom.

"He said he would never leave me," She sobbed uncontrollably into the arms of her parents. They tried, in vain, to console her grief but Hermione was so far into her pain she could no longer understand English. All that mattered to her was the anger she felt, the pain and the betrayal.

Feeling increasingly helpless, Marie and Jonathon walked from the room to give her time to grieve. Hermione replaced their comforting arms with a pillow from his bed, which she promptly dampened with her tears and sobs.

After what felt like hours of crying, Hermione suddenly stopped. Not because she no longer felt the pain of her loss, but because she could cry no longer. The sun had begun to rise and with it, Hermione gained enough strength to think and to breathe.

She lay silently on the bed, pulling the blankets around herself to comfort her. Both of her parents tried to speak to her but understood her decision to be alone. Hermione watched as the sun became bright enough to fill the room of the darkness.

Looking around the room for something to give a hint to his location, she found a letter with, what looked like, a giant feather quill.

_My sweet Hermione, _

As you know by now, I have gone. I had a limited time to spend in your world before I had to leave, no matter what happened. One day, I feel, you will forgive my hasty departure as, experience has taught me, time can heal all wounds. I will not apologise for leaving, as I know you cannot understand my reasons, but I will tell you that I had to go. You have done nothing to make me leave, except for making it all the harder to go. I came to you a ruthless animal and left a ruthless man who, for the love of a little girl, changed. I have not changed too much to the outside world but I feel you have improved my deposition to little intelligent, brunette girls.

As I left without saying farewell, I provide you with a consolation prize. The strange object you find with this letter is my gift to you. Never let anyone see it, as it is old and one of the most valuable objects in the world. Protect it as you would protect me, as this object is very dear to my heart. I would not have given it to anyone else but you, to protect, as I doubt anyone could protect it as well as my Hermione. Promise me you will never damage it. I will come back for it, one day. Hopefully the Hermione I return to will be more intelligent and happier than the one I leave.

Perhaps you will find a greater friend than me to share your soul with. I, Lord Voldemort, promise to never harm you ever again.

Yours for always and forever,

Lord Voldemort

* * *

"Master, we did not expect you back so soon." Abraxas Malfoy bowed deeply, his silver-blonde hair almost touching the ground. Voldemort slid the time-turner back into his pocket and gave the man a look of utter loathing.

"That is the strange thing about time-turners, Malfoy." Voldemort sneered at the tall man who gulped visibly. "You will always come back to when you left."

"O-O-Of course, my L-Lord" Abraxas Malfoy stuttered, visibly shaken by the glare Voldemort directed at him. Voldemort sneered at the man again before sweeping the manor with a glare. Abraxas' wife, Aurelia, stood in the drawing room with her head bowed in respect. An ornate, ivory cot contained a squealing newborn child.

"Your son, Abraxas." Voldemort said, his eyes drawn to the cot. Abraxas nodded quickly and led Voldemort to the infant.

"His name?" Voldemort said coldly. Abraxas shifted nervously on the balls of his feet. The child, seeing his father, stopped crying.

"He is nameless, my Lord." Abraxas said smoothly. "Aurelia and I decided to wait until you arrived for his naming ceremony. We would consider it a great honour for you to name him for us, as his life is your life."

"His name will be Lucius" Voldemort inwardly smiled, thinking of Hermione's reaction to the name. "He will be my servant."

"Of course." Bowing deeply once more, the father cast a sleeping charm on the gurgling infant. "His name is Lucius."

"My Lord, what of the Death Eaters in the future? Are we successful in destroying the world from those impure to live in it?"

Frowning slightly, Voldemort quickly realised that, in his time with Hermione, he had neglected to contact the wizarding community and discover how his future self got on with achieving world domination.

"Yes." Voldemort lied fluidly. Abraxas smirked and hissed in delight. "Your son will play a major part in our victory, as will his son. I am a hero, a saviour to the people and the Death Eaters will be victorious in their mission."

* * *

"We will find it one day, Voldemort" Harry Potter snarled at the caged wizard. Lord Voldemort smirked at the man and continued to ignore the constant barrage of insults. "Try not to get too comfortable, my Lord, the second we find it, you are destroyed for once and for all." Harry sneered at the shadow of the man.

Harry, along with his two companions, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had searched the world to find and destroy the Horcruxes, which kept the Dark Wizard alive. They had destroyed most of them, including Nagini, the pet of Lord Voldemort, but one remained elusive. The Ravenclaw Horcrux.

Now, finally discovering a way to remove the magic from the wizard, the Light trapped him in a prison. Everyday, without fail, Harry, Ron or one of the many wizard guards would come to his prison and goad him into sharing his secrets. Voldemort, for the most part, ignored them and watched as they became more and more frustrated by his silence.

He hadn't seen her from the day he transported back into his own time. He had heard of her, yes, for it would be difficult to not hear the name Hermione Granger with her deeds angering even the more patient of his followers. Once he realised his folly, that he had given part of his soul to a witch who was considered the epitome of good, he could have hurt his past self for the mistake.

After a month as their prisoner, she arrived at his prison. Hermione had grown gracefully, he noted, strangely proud of the girl. Her hair was shorter and relatively less bushy, but still it remained the same shade of brown. The war had taken massive liberties with her, with her youthful complexion being marred with scars from battles and her eyes containing a cold indifference only achieved from years of sorrow.

Voldemort would not have noticed her entrance into the prison complex if not for the strange chill in the air. She was almost like those creatures she single-handedly destroyed with the fluid movements of her long, black robes and the strange sense of foreboding that he felt.

"Hello, Hermione" Voldemort hissed quietly to her after a few moments of tense silence. He spoke, not of a desire to speak, but to somehow hear her voice. Hermione's face slipped into an impenetrable mask. Voldemort felt a rush of uncontrollable panic, which was quickly replaced by anger and disgust. "There was once a time when no force on earth would stop you from speaking, have you changed so much?"

"Yes. You have changed me. Congratulations." Hermione sneered at him. Taken slightly aback, Voldemort cursed his stupidity at almost convincing himself that she would have been the same little girl he had doted upon. Adopting his own mask of indifference he carefully warned himself to tread more carefully.

"Did you know who I was when you gave me your Horcrux?" Hermione spoke simply and calmly. Although her heart sped up and he could almost taste the adrenaline pumping throughout her veins, Hermione's expression remained impassive and her voice sounded simply bored.

"No, do you consider me so unintelligent? How long did it take you to discover it's true nature?"

"My Sixth year at Hogwarts. After I discovered that you had used Horcruxes I knew immediately that my most treasured possession" He could hear the acid drip from those words as her voice lowered bitterly "turned out to be your soul. Suffice to say, I was not happy." With a distasteful sniff, Hermione glared at Voldemort from under her long eyelashes. "It broke my heart when you left. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I could barely breathe. You destroyed me until I discovered my place at Hogwarts where I met two real friends but then you decided to destroy them too. I just thought you'd like to know that you ruined my life and I hate you."

"If you hate me so much, why don't you "find" the Ravenclaw Horcrux?" Voldemort sneered at her, secretly reeling from her verbal assault and the hatred she managed to convey without raising her voice.

"Do you consider me so unintelligent?" Hermione said softly, her eyes wide and mocking. "They would trace it to me and I would rather keep you alive and in pain."

A mindless guard walked into the room, inquiring as to Hermione's progress with "the animal". Hermione snarled at him and told him to leave if he still valued his health. The guard, startled by her anger, numbly walked from the room and locked the door.

Hermione stood with her wand drawn. She hissed a few well-chosen words and a wall from the prison crumbled to the floor. Voldemort recoiled slightly but stoically met her eyes.

"You put my parents under an Unforgivable" Hermione towered over him with her wand pointed firmly at his face. An unexplainable electricity filled the cell. "Crucio"

In his very weakened state, the Crutacius curse cut through him like a dozen boiling knives slicing every nerve from his body. His primal screaming was silenced with another wave of her wand in a seemingly never-ending attack. It felt like a rush of blistering acid poured through his veins instead of blood and it burnt like touching molten gold.

"You hurt so many people" Tears began to pour freely down her face as she cast the Crutacius again on his magically weakened body. His screams were silence again with only his scarlet eyes displaying the true horror of the curses.

His body arched uncontrollably as he cried out in vain. His eyes pleading at a merciless Hermione who extracted her revenge like an expert.

"You broke the heart of a child and I hate you, you disgusting monster." Hermione threw her wand away this time and leapt upon the fallen Dark Lord. She used her fists to hurt him but her tears blinded her punches. Sobbing desperately into his chest while continuing to weakly punch him, gave him time to recover and stop her constant tirade of half-hearted punches.

"Why did you leave me?" She choked out between the sobbing. Voldemort embraced her deeply and let her cry on his barely covered chest. "I loved you."

Hermione stopped crying and, within a split second, changed her position so she straddled his hips. She pushed him to the floor of the cell and planted a fierce, scorching kiss on his thin lips. He tried to move his body to meet the kiss but she forcefully pushed him back down to the cold cell floor.

Hermione kissed around his mouth and worked her way down to his exposed nipples. His mouth opened slightly in shock as he ran a free hand down Hermione's neck and gently massaged her left breast. Hermione's breath caught in her voice as she shuddered pleasurably before devouring Voldemort's body with her tongue.

"Miss Granger? Miss Granger? The Dark Detectors have gone off. Are you all right in there?" A banging followed the desperate cries that only served to remind her of who she was. Panicking slightly, Hermione jumped from him and ran from the cell, quickly mumbling the charm to make the wall grow.

The door opened with a resounding crack. A group of concerned faces peered in at the figure sitting on the chair giving them irritated looks. Hermione demanded they close the door and leave.

"You are my Hermione. We can be together forever." Voldemort hissed once the room had descended into a blanket of silence. Hermione walked toward the cage, her face slipped swiftly into it's previous mask of calm indifference.

"Excuse me, Lord Voldemort. I must go and be with my friends. I will be back tomorrow to continue the interrogation. You will be prepared." With no emotion on her face, she strode purposefully from the room, her black robes flowing behind her.

Once again, Voldemort thought amusedly, Hermione had managed to control his body in ways no other person had managed to before. Watching the sunset on the Halloween Night, he was overwhelmed with a sense of total irony that made him laugh out loud.

Like every other story about extraordinary people, there is never enough time to detail how their lives transgressed. Hermione Granger did indeed visit her prisoner the next day, and the day after that and, indeed, the day after that. No one knew what happened during the hours they spent together but some did speculate that Hermione spent her time trying to discover the location of the last remaining Horcrux or that Hermione had managed to find a way to make him speak about the darkest magics imaginable. While both these suggestions were admirable, Hermione's actions were, in reality, anything but admirable as she spent her hours hurting her prisoner, loving her prisoner and speaking to her prisoner.

Yes, like every perfectly remarkable people, Hermione Granger and Lord Voldemort had everything in their lives extraordinary. Hermione visited her prisoner every day of her life and her secret was revealed one day after her death. A grieving family handed over the Ravenclaw Horcrux to a new generation wizard who had been born long after Voldemort's fall. With the defeat of his last Horcrux, Voldemort finally laid his body to rest.

True love lasts forever.


End file.
